Large Archive of Hannah Arendt’s Papers Digitized by the Library of Congress: Read Her Lectures, Drafts of Articles, Notes & Correspondence

Many peo­ple read the Ger­man-Jew­ish polit­i­cal philoso­pher and jour­nal­ist Han­nah Arendt as some­thing of an ora­cle, a sec­u­lar prophet whose most famous works—her essay on the tri­al of Adolf Eich­mann and her 1951 Ori­gins of Total­i­tar­i­an­ism—con­tain secrets about our own times of high nation­al­ist fer­vor. And indeed they may, but we should also keep in mind that Arendt’s insights into the hor­rors of Nazism did not emerge until after the war.

Arendt did not iden­ti­fy as Jew­ish dur­ing the Naz­i’s rise to pow­er, but as a ful­ly assim­i­lat­ed Ger­man; she had a roman­tic rela­tion­ship with her pro­fes­sor Mar­tin Hei­deg­ger, who became a doc­tri­naire Nazi, and she seemed to have lit­tle under­stand­ing of Ger­man anti­semitism dur­ing the thir­ties and for­ties. Arendt, many have alleged, some­times seemed too close to her sub­ject.

In such times as hers, to use the words of Wal­lace Stevens—a writer with his own com­pli­cat­ed rela­tion­ship to fas­cism—the “dif­fi­cult rig­or” of observ­ing the moment means that “we rea­son of these things with lat­er rea­son.” Arendt’s obser­va­tions of Europe in the 1950s were reck­on­ings with the recent past—she drew togeth­er strains of expe­ri­ence that could not always be con­nect­ed dur­ing what Stevens calls the “irra­tional moment.” So too, intel­lec­tu­al observers of our own “irra­tional moment” may only tru­ly under­stand it “with lat­er rea­son.”

But if Amer­i­cans wish to learn about their country’s long­stand­ing polit­i­cal ten­den­cies from Arendt’s work, it is per­haps not to her writ­ing on Ger­many or the U.S.S.R. that we should turn, but to her work on the U.S., much of which is reflect­ed in typed drafts of essays and lec­tures, cor­re­spon­dence, and notes con­tained at the Library of Congress’s Han­nah Arendt Papers col­lec­tion. All of the col­lec­tion has been dig­i­tized, and some of those scans are online. Find­ing out which doc­u­ments have been uploaded and which only remain view­able onsite takes a lit­tle dig­ging around in the cat­a­log, but it is work that pays off for those with a gen­uine inter­est in the fas­ci­nat­ing turns of Arendt’s thought.

We may turn to essays such as 1971’s “Lying in Pol­i­tics,” writ­ten after the release of the Pen­ta­gon Papers, notes Brain Pick­ings, and “includ­ed in Crises of the Repub­lic—a col­lec­tion of Arendt’s time­less­ly insight­ful and increas­ing­ly time­ly essays on pol­i­tics [and] civ­il dis­obe­di­ence.” As Arendt writes in an ear­li­er lec­ture that pre­ced­ed “Lying in Politics”—with the ear­li­er title “The Role of the Lie in Pol­i­tics” (top)—“Truthfulness has nev­er been count­ed as among the polit­i­cal virtues.” You can view and down­load high-qual­i­ty images of that typed lec­ture here, and see her revise her ideas in cor­rec­tions and mar­gin­al notes.

The polit­i­cal lie, she writes weari­ly, “has exist­ed since the begin­ning of record­ed his­to­ry.” And yet, there is some­thing unique about its use in U.S. pol­i­tics, in which “the only per­son like­ly to be an ide­al vic­tim of com­plete manip­u­la­tion is the Pres­i­dent of the Unit­ed States.” Despite her dis­pas­sion­ate philo­soph­i­cal view, Arendt found the lies of the Viet­nam War-era par­tic­u­lar­ly dis­turb­ing. In the type­script page at the top, you can see a pro­posed sub­ti­tle pen­ciled in at the top left cor­ner: “How Could They? What Went Wrong in Amer­i­ca.”

In the typed lec­ture above, “Action and the Pur­suit of Hap­pi­ness,” from 1960, Arendt remarks on the “amaz­ing dis­cov­ery” by the country’s nat­u­ral­ized “new cit­i­zens” that the “pur­suit of hap­pi­ness” remains a “more than mean­ing­less phrase and an emp­ty word in the pub­lic and pri­vate life of the Amer­i­can Repub­lic.” This “most elu­sive of all human rights,” she con­tin­ues, “appar­ent­ly enti­tles men, in the words of Howard Mum­ford Jones, to ‘the ghast­ly priv­i­lege of pur­su­ing a phan­tom and embrac­ing a delu­sion.’”

Arendt’s 1968 New York Times edi­to­r­i­al “Is Amer­i­ca By Nature a Vio­lent Soci­ety,” whose type­script you can see in part above, opens with a num­ber of assump­tions about the country’s “nation­al char­ac­ter,” begin­ning with the com­ment that the country’s “mul­ti­tude of eth­nic groups… for bet­ter or worse have nev­er melt­ed togeth­er into a nation.” Per­haps this is too broad a char­ac­ter­i­za­tion. Or per­haps the U.S. as a nation is no more “arti­fi­cial ‘by nature,’” in its com­po­si­tion than many oth­er, much old­er, nations.

Arendt’s obser­va­tions on her adopt­ed land weren’t always so astute, but she did have enough crit­i­cal dis­tance from the coun­try to close­ly observe it dur­ing times of cri­sis and see clear­ly what oth­ers could or would not. You’ll find many more of Arendt’s keen observations—typed in drafts and notes, scrib­bled in mar­gins, and writ­ten in letters—at the Library of Con­gress’ Han­nah Arendt Papers col­lec­tion, (part­ly) online.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Enter the Han­nah Arendt Archives & Dis­cov­er Rare Audio Lec­tures, Man­u­scripts, Mar­gin­a­lia, Let­ters, Post­cards & More

A Look Inside Han­nah Arendt’s Per­son­al Library: Down­load Mar­gin­a­lia from 90 Books (Hei­deg­ger, Kant, Marx & More)

Han­nah Arendt Explains How Pro­pa­gan­da Uses Lies to Erode All Truth & Moral­i­ty: Insights from The Ori­gins of Total­i­tar­i­an­ism

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Massive Archive of 78RPM Records Now Digitized & Put Online: Stream 78,000 Early 20th Century Records from Around the World

Last sum­mer we checked in with the Inter­net Archive’s Great 78 Project, a vol­un­teer effort to dig­i­tize thou­sands of 78rpm records—the old­est mass-pro­duced record­ing medi­um. Draw­ing on the exper­tise and vast hold­ings of preser­va­tion com­pa­ny George Blood, L.P., the ARChive of Con­tem­po­rary Music, and over 20 more insti­tu­tions from around the world, the project aims to save the record­ed sounds of the past, and not only those that have come down to us through the efforts of high­ly selec­tive cura­tors. What we think of as the sound of the ear­ly 20th century—the blues, jazz, coun­try, clas­si­cal, rag­time, gospel, blue­grass, etc.—only rep­re­sents a pop­u­lar sam­ple.

Inter­net Archive founder Brew­ster Kahle wants to widen our son­ic appre­ci­a­tion of the peri­od, and include every­thing, “Mid­west, dif­fer­ent coun­tries, dif­fer­ent social class­es, dif­fer­ent immi­grant com­mu­ni­ties and their loves and fears.”

This mas­sive archive will even­tu­al­ly num­ber in the mil­lions, up to 3 mil­lion record­ings, to be exact, and con­tin­ues apace at the rate of about 5,000 new uploads per month.

Last August, the record­ings in the archive num­bered over 25,000. Now, the Great 78 Project con­tains more than 78,000 and count­ing dig­i­tal trans­fers of frag­ile 78rpm records—everything from Prokofiev to the Carter Fam­i­ly (fur­ther up) to Mis­sis­sip­pi John Hurt from 1928 (above) to inter­na­tion­al folk dances to field record­ings of ani­mal sounds.

The col­lect­ed works of Al Jol­son, span­ning the years 1911 to 1926, appear (above), as does a fas­ci­nat­ing col­lec­tion from Argenti­na, brought to the U.S. by Tina Argume­do, who began col­lect­ing 78s in the 30s and con­tin­ued to do so for anoth­er 20 years before mov­ing to the States. Her dig­i­tized col­lec­tion of almost 700 records “com­pris­es pri­mar­i­ly tan­go music, with boleros, sam­bas, mam­bo, and oth­er dance music,” like the Argen­tine swing of Dajos Bela y su Orques­tra from 1932 below.

As we not­ed in our pre­vi­ous post, the utmost care has gone into pre­serv­ing the orig­i­nal sound of these records, with a vari­ety of dig­i­tal trans­fers made with dif­fer­ent vin­tage sty­lus­es to rep­re­sent the dif­fer­ences in play­back sys­tems. The process also pre­serves all the orig­i­nal records’ crack­le and hiss—sometimes the music seems to swim below the sur­face noise, which only enhances the effect of hear­ing, trans­port­ed through time, music from 80, 90, and 100 years ago and more.

Enter the 78 archive here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

25,000+ 78RPM Records Now Pro­fes­sion­al­ly Dig­i­tized & Stream­ing Online: A Trea­sure Trove of Ear­ly 20th Cen­tu­ry Music

The Boston Pub­lic Library Will Dig­i­tize & Put Online 200,000+ Vin­tage Records

Stream 8,000 Vin­tage Afropop Record­ings Dig­i­tized & Made Avail­able by The British Library

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

New Gabriel García Márquez Digital Archive Features More Than 27,000 Digitized Letters, Manuscript Pages, Photos & More

Uniden­ti­fied pho­tog­ra­ph­er. Gabriel Gar­cía Márquez in Ara­cat­a­ca, March 1966.
Cour­tesy Har­ry Ran­som Cen­ter.

When Gabriel Gar­cía Márquez died in 2014, it was said that only the Bible had sold more books in Span­ish than the Colom­bian writer’s work: Love in the Time of Cholera, The Autumn of the Patri­arch, Chron­i­cle of a Death Fore­told, The Gen­er­al in His Labyrinth… and yes, of course, One Hun­dred Years of Soli­tude, the 1967 nov­el William Kennedy described in a New York Times review as “the first piece of lit­er­a­ture since the Book of Gen­e­sis that should be required read­ing for the entire human race.”

Gar­cía Márquez began to hate such ele­vat­ed praise. It raised expec­ta­tions he felt he couldn’t ful­fill after the enor­mous suc­cess of that incred­i­bly bril­liant, seem­ing­ly sui gener­is sec­ond nov­el. Every­one in South Amer­i­ca read the book. To avoid the crowds, the author moved to Spain (where Mario Var­gas Llosa wrote a doc­tor­al dis­ser­ta­tion on him). He needn’t have wor­ried.

Every­thing he wrote after­ward met with near-uni­ver­sal acclaim—bringing ear­li­er work like No One Writes to the Colonel, Leaf Storm, short sto­ry col­lec­tions like A Very Old Man with Enor­mous Wings, and decades of jour­nal­ism and non-fic­tion writing—to a much wider read­er­ship than he’d ever had before.

Gabriel Gar­cía Márquez’s revised type­script of Chron­i­cle of a Death Fore­told, 1980.
Cour­tesy Har­ry Ran­som Cen­ter.

After Gre­go­ry Rabassa’s 1970 trans­la­tion of One Hun­dred Years of Soli­tude, waves of “mag­i­cal real­ist” and Latin Amer­i­can lit­er­a­ture from the 50s and 60s swept through the Eng­lish-speak­ing world, much of it in trans­la­tion for the first time. Gar­cía Márquez declared the Eng­lish ver­sion of his nov­el bet­ter than the orig­i­nal, and affec­tion­ate­ly called Rabas­sa, “the best Latin Amer­i­can writer in the Eng­lish lan­guage.” Upwards of 50 mil­lion peo­ple world­wide now know the sto­ry of the Buendía fam­i­ly. “Pub­lished in 44 lan­guages,” The Atlantic notes, “it remains the most trans­lat­ed lit­er­ary work in Span­ish after Don Quixote, and a sur­vey among inter­na­tion­al writ­ers ranks it as the nov­el that has most shaped world lit­er­a­ture over the past three decades.”

The sto­ry of the book’s com­po­si­tion is even more fas­ci­nat­ing. In the Democ­ra­cy Now trib­ute video below, you can hear Gar­cía Márquez him­self tell it. And at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Texas at Austin’s Har­ry Ran­som Cen­ter, we can see arti­facts like the pho­to­graph of the author at the top, in his home­town of Ara­cat­a­ca, Colom­bia in March of 1966, dur­ing the com­po­si­tion of One Hun­dred Years of Soli­tude. We can see scanned images of type­script like the page above from Chron­i­cle of a Death Fore­told.


In all, the archive “includes man­u­script drafts of pub­lished and unpub­lished works, research mate­r­i­al, pho­tographs, scrap­books, cor­re­spon­dence, clip­pings, note­books, screen­plays, print­ed mate­r­i­al, ephemera, and an audio record­ing of Gar­cía Márquez’s accep­tance speech for the Nobel Prize in Lit­er­a­ture in 1982… approx­i­mate­ly 27,500 items from Gar­cía Márquez’s papers.” These doc­u­ments and pho­tos, like that fur­ther down of young jour­nal­ist Gar­cía Márquez with Emma Cas­tro and, just below, of the sea­soned famous nov­el­ist, with her broth­er, tell the sto­ry of a writer who lived his life steeped in the pol­i­tics and his­to­ry of Latin Amer­i­ca, and who trans­lat­ed those sto­ries faith­ful­ly for the rest of the world.

Uniden­ti­fied pho­tog­ra­ph­er. Gabriel Gar­cía Márquez with Fidel Cas­tro, undat­ed.
Cour­tesy Har­ry Ran­som Cen­ter.

Enter, search, and explore the archive here. This amaz­ing resource opens up to the gen­er­al pub­lic a wealth of mate­r­i­al pre­vi­ous­ly only avail­able to schol­ars and librar­i­ans. The project fea­tures “text-search­able Eng­lish- and Span­ish-lan­guage mate­ri­als, took 18 months and involved the efforts of librar­i­ans, archivists, stu­dents, tech­nol­o­gy staff mem­bers and con­ser­va­tors.” Per­haps only coin­ci­den­tal­ly, 18 months is the time it took Gar­cía Márquez to write One Hun­dred Years of Soli­tude, bar­ri­cad­ed in his office while he ran out of mon­ey, pulled for­ward by some irre­sistible force. “I did not stop writ­ing for a sin­gle day for 18 straight months, until I fin­ished the book,” he tells us. As always, we believe him.

Uniden­ti­fied pho­tog­ra­ph­er. Gabriel Gar­cía Márquez with Emma Cas­tro, 1957.
Cour­tesy Har­ry Ran­som Cen­ter.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hear Gabriel Gar­cía Márquez’s Extra­or­di­nary Nobel Prize Accep­tance Speech, “The Soli­tude Of Latin Amer­i­ca,” in Eng­lish & Span­ish (1982)

Read 10 Short Sto­ries by Gabriel Gar­cía Márquez Free Online (Plus More Essays & Inter­views)

Gabriel Gar­cía Márquez Describes the Cul­tur­al Mer­its of Soap Operas, and Even Wrote a Script for One

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

2,000+ Impressionist, Post-impressionist & Early Modern Paintings Now Free Online, Thanks to the Barnes Foundation

Georges Seu­rat, Hen­ri Rousseau, Gior­gio de Chiri­co, Auguste Renoir, Vin­cent Van Gogh — all of us asso­ciate these names with great inno­va­tions in paint­ing, but how many of us have had the oppor­tu­ni­ty to look long and close enough at their work to under­stand those inno­va­tions? To feel them, in oth­er words, rather than just to know about them? The Barnes Foun­da­tion in Philadel­phia has just recent­ly made it pos­si­ble for us to con­tem­plate thou­sands of works of art includ­ing those of Impres­sion­ist, Post-Impres­sion­ist, and ear­ly Mod­ern mas­ters, zoomed in up close and at any length we like, by dig­i­tiz­ing their col­lec­tion and mak­ing it free online.

“Thanks to Open Access,” writes Art­net’s Sarah Cas­cone, “2,081 of the Barnes’s 4,021 objects have been pub­lished online. Of those, there are high-res­o­lu­tion images of 1,429 works avail­able for down­load in the pub­lic domain.

It’s a big step for a muse­um that as recent­ly as 1991 hadn’t pub­lished any col­or imagery of its hold­ings,” due in part to the pref­er­ences of founder and “eccen­tric art col­lec­tor Alfred C. Barnes (1872–1951), who drew up strict rules for how the muse­um would be run.” For instance, it seems that Barnes, who dis­ap­proved of the way the ear­ly col­or pho­tog­ra­phy repro­duced paint­ings, felt he had no choice but to ban it in his muse­um entire­ly.

“As we were rethink­ing the pre­sen­ta­tion of our col­lec­tion online we were con­sid­er­ing the sen­si­tiv­i­ty Barnes had around col­or repro­duc­tion,” writes Deputy Direc­tor of Audi­ence Engage­ment and Chief Expe­ri­ence Offi­cer Shel­ley Bern­stein, “but we also had to think about the needs of today’s stu­dents, researchers, and schol­ars. It goes with­out say­ing that the work of oth­er insti­tu­tions  —  the open access ini­tia­tive at the Met, espe­cial­ly  —  helped make these deci­sions much eas­i­er.” And though the Barnes first start­ed putting its works of art on the inter­net five years ago, “that last iter­a­tion of the col­lec­tion online didn’t fore­ground the abil­i­ty for users to down­load or share images eas­i­ly.”

Now, the Barnes’ online col­lec­tion fea­tures near­ly 1,500 items free to down­load so far. But cur­rent­ly down­load­able or not, every­thing uploaded so far appears in an eas­i­ly search­able, brows­able, and, most of all, view­able form. Here we have van Gogh’s The Broth­el, Paul Cézan­ne’s The Bathers, and Rousseau’s Out­skirts of Paris, four paint­ings that, in many ways, look as styl­is­ti­cal­ly fresh as they did when first revealed in the late 19th cen­tu­ry to the mid-20th. The fact that 21st-cen­tu­ry tech­nol­o­gy has made it so much eas­i­er for all human­i­ty to see that would, one likes to think, have pleased even old Mr. Barnes him­self.

Enter the Barnes online col­lec­tion here.

via Art­net News

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Down­load 35,000 Works of Art from the Nation­al Gallery, Includ­ing Mas­ter­pieces by Van Gogh, Gau­guin, Rem­brandt & More

An Intro­duc­tion to 100 Impor­tant Paint­ings with Videos Cre­at­ed by Smarthis­to­ry

Aston­ish­ing Film of Arthrit­ic Impres­sion­ist Painter, Pierre-Auguste Renoir (1915)

Impres­sion­ist Painter Edgar Degas Takes a Stroll in Paris, 1915

The Maligned Impres­sion­ist Painter Pierre-Auguste Renoir Illus­trates Emile Zola’s Grit­ty Nov­el L’Assommoir (1878)

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

MIT Is Digitizing a Huge Archive of Noam Chomsky’s Lectures, Papers and Other Documents & Will Put Them Online

Image by Andrew Rusk, via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

If you’re a lin­guist, you’ve read Noam Chomsky—no way of get­ting around that. There may be rea­sons to dis­agree with Chomsky’s lin­guis­tic the­o­ries but—as Newton’s the­o­ries do in physics—his break­throughs rep­re­sent a par­a­dig­mat­ic shift in the study of lan­guage, an implic­it or explic­it ref­er­ence point for near­ly every lin­guis­tic analy­sis in the past few decades.

If you’re on the polit­i­cal left, you’ve read Chom­sky, or you should. Even if there are sig­nif­i­cant rea­sons to dis­agree with what­ev­er con­tro­ver­sial stance he’s tak­en over the years, few polit­i­cal the­o­rists have approached their sub­ject with the degree of dogged­ness, intel­lec­tu­al integri­ty, and eru­di­tion as he has. Chom­sky began his sec­ond career as a polit­i­cal activist and philoso­pher in the late six­ties, speak­ing out in oppo­si­tion to the Viet­nam war. Since then, he’s writ­ten major­ly influ­en­tial works on mass media pro­pa­gan­da, Cold War pol­i­tics and inter­ven­tion­ist war, eco­nom­ic impe­ri­al­ism, anar­chism, etc.

Now an emer­i­tus pro­fes­sor from MIT, where he began teach­ing in 1955, and a lau­re­ate pro­fes­sor at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Ari­zona, Chom­sky has reached that stage in every pub­lic intellectual’s career when archivists and cura­tors begin con­sol­i­dat­ing a doc­u­men­tary lega­cy. Librar­i­ans at MIT start­ed doing so a few years ago when, in 2012, the MIT Libraries Insti­tute Archives received over 260 box­es of Chomsky’s per­son­al papers. You can hear the man him­self dis­cuss the archive’s impor­tance in the short inter­view at the top. And at the MIT Library site unBox Chom­sky Archive, you’ll find slideshow pre­views of its con­tents.

Those con­tents include the 1953 paper “Sys­tems of Syn­tac­tic Analy­sis,” which “appears to be Chomsky’s first for­ay in print of what would become trans­for­ma­tion­al gen­er­a­tive gram­mar.” Also archived are notes from a 1984 talk on “Man­u­fac­tur­ing Con­sent” giv­en at Rut­gers Uni­ver­si­ty, out­lin­ing the ideas Chom­sky and Edward S. Her­man would ful­ly explore in the 1988 book of the same name on “the polit­i­cal econ­o­my of the mass media.” And in the cat­e­go­ry of “activism,” we find mate­ri­als like the newslet­ter below, pub­lished by an anti-war orga­ni­za­tion Chom­sky co-found­ed in the 60s called RESIST.

MIT hopes to “dig­i­tize the hun­dreds of thou­sands of pieces” in the col­lec­tion, “to make it acces­si­ble to the pub­lic.” Such a mas­sive under­tak­ing exceeds the library’s bud­get, so they have asked for finan­cial sup­port. At unBox­ing the Chom­sky Archive, you can make a dona­tion, or just peruse the slideshow pre­views and con­sid­er the lega­cy of one of the U.S.’s most for­mi­da­ble liv­ing sci­en­tif­ic and polit­i­cal thinkers.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

An Ani­mat­ed Intro­duc­tion to Noam Chomsky’s Man­u­fac­tur­ing Con­sent and How the Media Cre­ates the Illu­sion of Democ­ra­cy

Noam Chom­sky Explains the Best Way for Ordi­nary Peo­ple to Make Change in the World, Even When It Seems Daunt­ing

Read 9 Free Books By Noam Chom­sky Online

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

25 Million Images From 14 Art Institutions to Be Digitized & Put Online In One Huge Scholarly Archive

Dig­i­tal art archives, says Thomas Gae­ht­gens, direc­tor of the Get­ty Research Insti­tute, are “Sleep­ing Beau­ties, and they are wait­ing to be dis­cov­ered and kissed.” It’s an odd metaphor, espe­cial­ly since the archive to which Gae­ht­gens refers cur­rent­ly con­tains pho­to­graph­ic trea­sures like that of Medieval Chris­t­ian art from the Nether­lands Insti­tute for Art His­to­ry. But soon, Pharos, the “Inter­na­tion­al Con­sor­tium of Pho­to Archives,” will host 25 mil­lion images, Ted Loos reports at The New York Times, “17 mil­lion of them art­works and the rest sup­ple­men­tal mate­r­i­al.” The archive aims to have 7 mil­lion online by 2020.

Pharos is the joint effort of 14 dif­fer­ent insti­tu­tions, includ­ing the Get­ty and the Frick, the Nation­al Gallery of Art, the Yale Cen­ter for British Art, Rome’s Bib­lio­the­ca Hertziana, the Cour­tauld Insti­tute, and more. Even­tu­al­ly “users will be able to search the restora­tion his­to­ry of the works, includ­ing dif­fer­ent states of the same piece over time… past own­er­ship; and even back­ground on relat­ed works that have been lost or destroyed.” As Art­net puts it, “art his­to­ry just got a lot more acces­si­ble.”

Once the pri­ma­ry domain of well-appoint­ed pro­fes­sors with insti­tu­tion­al con­nec­tions and the bud­get to fly around the world, the dis­ci­pline can soon be pur­sued by any­one with an inter­net con­nec­tion, though there is, of course, no vir­tu­al sub­sti­tute yet for engag­ing with art in three-dimen­sions. Claire Voon explains at Hyper­al­ler­gic, “Pharos’s data­base is pri­mar­i­ly aimed at scholars—although it is freely avail­able for all to use—and is ded­i­cat­ed to upload­ing a work’s attri­bu­tion and prove­nance as well as con­ser­va­tion, exhi­bi­tion, and bib­li­o­graph­ic his­to­ries.” All of the infor­ma­tion, in oth­er words, required for seri­ous research.

Cur­rent­ly fea­tur­ing almost 100,000 images and over 60,000 sep­a­rate art­works, Pharos con­tains clas­si­cal and Byzan­tine art and mosaics from the Frick; ear­ly Chris­t­ian art from the Nation­al Gallery; many pho­tographs of Roman pot­tery, sculp­ture, and stat­u­ary from the Bib­lio­the­ca Hertziana, and much more. The Frick com­pris­es the bulk of the col­lec­tion, and the muse­um is Pharos’s pri­ma­ry part­ner and “home to the very first pho­toarchive in the Unit­ed States, thanks to the ini­tia­tive of its founder’s daugh­ter.” (Most of the images cur­rent­ly in the Frick archive are in black and white.)

While the cur­rent insti­tu­tions are all based in North Amer­i­ca and Europe, the “data­base will even­tu­al­ly expand,” writes Voon, “to include records from more pho­toarchives around the world.” Schol­ars and art lovers world­wide may not nec­es­sar­i­ly think of these trea­sures as kiss­able “sleep­ing beau­ties,” but their plen­ti­ful appear­ance in such rich detail and easy acces­si­bil­i­ty may indeed seem like a fairy tale come true.

Enter the Pharos data­base here.

via Hyper­al­ler­gic

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The British Muse­um Cre­ates 3D Mod­els of the Roset­ta Stone & 200+ Oth­er His­toric Arti­facts: Down­load or View in Vir­tu­al Real­i­ty

The Smith­son­ian Design Muse­um Dig­i­tizes 200,000 Objects, Giv­ing You Access to 3,000 Years of Design Inno­va­tion & His­to­ry

1,000+ His­toric Japan­ese Illus­trat­ed Books Dig­i­tized & Put Online by the Smith­son­ian: From the Edo & Meji Eras (1600–1912)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

New Digital Archive Puts Online 4,000 Historic Images of Rome: The Eternal City from the 16th to 20th Centuries

The poet Tibul­lus first described Rome as “The Eter­nal City” in the first cen­tu­ry BC, and that evoca­tive nick­name has stuck over the thou­sands of years since. Or rather, he would have called it “Urbs Aeter­na,” which for Ital­ian-speak­ers would have been “La Cit­tà Eter­na,” but regard­less of which lan­guage you pre­fer it in, it throws down a daunt­ing chal­lenge before any his­to­ri­an of Rome. Each schol­ar has had to find their own way of approach­ing such a his­tor­i­cal­ly for­mi­da­ble place, and few have built up such a robust visu­al record as Rodol­fo Lan­ciani, 4000 items from whose col­lec­tion became avail­able to view online this year, thanks to Stan­ford Libraries.

As an “archae­ol­o­gist, pro­fes­sor of topog­ra­phy, and sec­re­tary of the Archae­o­log­i­cal Com­mis­sion,” says the col­lec­tion’s about page, Lan­ciani, “was a pio­neer in the sys­tem­at­ic, mod­ern study of the city of Rome.”

Hav­ing lived from 1845 to 1929 with a long and fruit­ful career to match, he “col­lect­ed a vast archive of his own notes and man­u­scripts, as well as works by oth­ers includ­ing rare prints and orig­i­nal draw­ings by artists and archi­tects stretch­ing back to the six­teenth cen­tu­ry.” After he died, his whole library found a buy­er in the Isti­tu­to Nazionale di Arche­olo­gia e Sto­ria dell’Arte (INASA), which made it avail­able to researchers at the 15th-cen­tu­ry Palaz­zo Venezia in Rome.

Enter a team of pro­fes­sors, archae­ol­o­gists, and tech­nol­o­gists from Stan­ford and else­where, who with a grant from the Samuel H. Kress Foun­da­tion, and in part­ner­ship with Italy’s Min­istry of Cul­tur­al Her­itage and Activ­i­ties and Tourism and the Nation­al Insti­tute, began dig­i­tiz­ing it all. Their efforts have so far yield­ed an exhi­bi­tion of about 4,000 of Lan­cian­i’s draw­ings, prints, pho­tographs and sketch­es of Rome from the 16th cen­tu­ry to the 20th. Not only can you exam­ine them in high-res­o­lu­tion in your brows­er as well as down­load them, you can also see the loca­tions of what they depict pin­point­ed on the map of Rome. That fea­ture might come in espe­cial­ly handy when next you pay a vis­it to The Eter­nal City, though for many of the fea­tures depict­ed in Lan­cian­i’s col­lec­tion, you hard­ly need direc­tions. Enter the dig­i­tal col­lec­tion here.

via Stan­ford News

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The His­to­ry of Rome in 179 Pod­casts

Ancient Rome’s Sys­tem of Roads Visu­al­ized in the Style of Mod­ern Sub­way Maps

How Did the Romans Make Con­crete That Lasts Longer Than Mod­ern Con­crete? The Mys­tery Final­ly Solved

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

200,000+ Vintage Records Being Digitized & Put Online by the Boston Public Library

It may be a great irony that our age of cul­tur­al destruc­tion and—many would argue—decline also hap­pens to be a gold­en age of preser­va­tion, thanks to the very new media and big data forces cred­it­ed with dumb­ing things down. We spend ample time con­tem­plat­ing the loss­es; archival ini­tia­tives like The Great 78 Project, like so many oth­ers we reg­u­lar­ly fea­ture here, should give us rea­sons to cel­e­brate.

In a post this past August, we out­lined the goals and meth­ods of the project. Cen­tral­ized at the Inter­net Archive—that mag­nan­i­mous cit­i­zens’ repos­i­to­ry of dig­i­tized texts, record­ings, films, etc.—the project con­tains sev­er­al thou­sand care­ful­ly pre­served 78rpm record­ings, which doc­u­ment the dis­tinc­tive sounds of the ear­ly 20th cen­tu­ry from 1898 to the late-1950s.

Thanks to part­ners like preser­va­tion com­pa­ny George Blood, L.P. and the ARChive of Con­tem­po­rary Music, we can hear many thou­sands of records from artists both famous and obscure in the orig­i­nal sound of the first mass-pro­duced con­sumer audio for­mat.

Just a few days ago, the Inter­net Archive announced that they would be joined in the endeav­or by the Boston Pub­lic Library, who, writes Wendy Hana­mu­ra, “will dig­i­tize, pre­serve” and make avail­able to the pub­lic “hun­dreds of thou­sands of audio record­ings in a vari­ety of his­tor­i­cal for­mats,” includ­ing not only 78s, but also LP’s and Thomas Edison’s first record­ing medi­um, the wax cylin­der. “These record­ings have nev­er been cir­cu­lat­ed and were in stor­age for sev­er­al decades, uncat­a­logued and inac­ces­si­ble to the pub­lic.”

The process, notes WBUR, “could take a few years,” giv­en the siz­able bulk of the col­lec­tion and the metic­u­lous meth­ods of the Inter­net Archive’s tech­ni­cians, who labor to pre­serve the con­di­tion of the often frag­ile mate­ri­als, and to pro­duce a num­ber of dif­fer­ent ver­sions, “from remas­tered to raw.” The object, says Boston Pub­lic Library pres­i­dent David Leonard, is to “pro­duce record­ings in a way that’s inter­est­ing to the casu­al lis­ten­er as well as to the hard-core music lis­ten­er in the research busi­ness.”

Thus far, only two record­ings from BPL’s exten­sive col­lec­tions have become avail­able—a 1938 record­ing called “Please Pass the Bis­cuits, Pap­py (I Like Moun­tain Music)” by W. Lee O’Daniel and His Hill­bil­ly Boys and Edvard Grieg’s only piano con­cer­to, record­ed by Fred­dy Mar­tin and His Orches­tra in 1947. Even in this tiny sam­pling, you can see the range of mate­r­i­al the archive will fea­ture, con­sis­tent with the tremen­dous vari­ety the Great 78 Project already con­tains.

While we can count it as a great gain to have free and open access to this his­toric vault of record­ed audio, it is also the case that dig­i­tal archiv­ing has become an urgent bul­wark against total loss. Cur­rent record­ing for­mats instant­ly spawn innu­mer­able copies of them­selves. The phys­i­cal media of the past exist­ed in finite num­bers and are sub­ject to total era­sure with time. “The sim­ple fact of the mat­ter,” archivist George Blood tells the BPL, “is most audio­vi­su­al record­ings will be lost. These 78s are dis­ap­pear­ing left and right. It is impor­tant that we do a good job pre­serv­ing what we can get to, because there won’t be a sec­ond chance.”

via WBUR

Relat­ed Con­tent:

25,000+ 78RPM Records Now Pro­fes­sion­al­ly Dig­i­tized & Stream­ing Online: A Trea­sure Trove of Ear­ly 20th Cen­tu­ry Music

The British Library’s “Sounds” Archive Presents 80,000 Free Audio Record­ings: World & Clas­si­cal Music, Inter­views, Nature Sounds & More

BBC Launch­es World Music Archive

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

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